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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26451895">What the Hell is a Stiles?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealDanniX/pseuds/TheRealDanniX'>TheRealDanniX</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BAMF Stiles, Curses, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Memory Loss, Minor Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, No Angst, None - Freeform, Not Beta Read, Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski, Post-Canon, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing, Temporary Amnesia, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Witches, as a treat, implied - Freeform, just a little, not in this house</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:35:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,901</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26451895</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealDanniX/pseuds/TheRealDanniX</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A witch takes Stiles' memory while he's on the job and Derek gets stuck babysitting. Not that he really minds. In fact, it may be just what he needs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>858</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What the Hell is a Stiles?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, I have basically told canon to fuck off and just taken what I like and gone on. This is set long after the show ended. Stiles is a deputy &amp; a Spark. Derek is an Alpha. Neither is really important to the story, but just so y'all know. Everyone is alive because I say so.</p><p>If you like it, drop some comments and kudos!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>            Derek’s day started like it always did. He checked in with his pack and went to work at the Library, stopping to get himself and Stiles coffee at their favorite shop on the way. Stiles met him outside the library smiling like usual. He took the offered coffee and handed off the breakfast sandwich he’d made. Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles shrugged, the stiff shoulders of his deputy uniform crinkling. “I thought you might be hungry since you never get any pastries when you get the coffee,” he said. Derek rolled his eyes but had to suppress a smile. Stiles kept talking, babbling about his current cases as he sipped his coffee. At a quarter to eight, Stiles walked over to the Sheriff’s station and Derek went to open the library. He settled at his desk and munched on the sandwich, which was admittedly very good. After all, Stiles was a pretty great cook, not that he would ever tell Stiles that. The rest of the morning was quiet and uneventful, save for when Mrs. Marks accidentally let one of the stray cats into the building. Derek handled that easily enough, scaring it right back out the door. It wasn’t until he took his lunch that things started going sideways.</p><p>            Normally, when Stiles was working the day shift, he would force his way into Derek’s lunch break by showing up as Derek was clocking out so they could eat together. If he didn’t, he always sent Derek a text reminding him to actually take the break in that passive-aggressive way he has of caring. Derek was convinced that Stiles had spelled the library to keep an eye on Derek. Part of him almost found it endearing. The point was, Stiles was there every day. Except today. Derek wasn’t worried, exactly. It’s not like they were required to eat together every day. And Stiles certainly didn’t have to tell Derek everything he was doing. He was the Hale Pack’s emissary and a tentative friend. Nothing more. Derek knew that. After everything that had happened between them when Stiles was in high school, he knew that was probably the most they would ever be. (Not that he wanted more, right?) Still, Derek was concerned. He was even more concerned when two o’clock rolled around and he still hadn’t heard from Stiles. He was tempted to text Boyd, who was supposed to be on shift with Stiles today, but he held himself back. His phone rang at quarter to three. Caller ID said it was the Sheriff and Derek’s stomach dropped.</p><p>            “Sheriff,” Derek said, answering the phone. He reminded himself that the Sheriff had often called to verify that cases were supernatural. Not since Stiles and Boyd started as Deputies though.</p><p>            “Derek, are you busy right now?” Noah asked. There was something in his voice that put Derek on edge.</p><p>            “I’m at work, but it’s empty right now. What’s going on?” Derek tried to keep from growling.</p><p>            “We need someone to look after Stiles.” Ice went down his spine. Before Derek could get the words out the Sheriff was already answering his question. “He went out on a call for breaking and entering at around eleven and never came back. We sent Boyd out for him when he didn’t answer the radio and he found Stiles unconscious. He woke up at the hospital and he’s fine. No concussion or any other injuries.”</p><p>            “But.”</p><p>            “But he’s got no memories. He doesn’t even know his own name. Boyd said the house smelled like magic and I’ve got every officer in the know out looking for whoever did this, but I need somebody looking after Stiles. I can get someone to drop him off, so you don’t have to leave work.”</p><p>            “No memories?” Derek said.</p><p>            “None. Can he stay with you until we get this fixed, son?” the Sheriff asked.</p><p>            Derek nodded, before remembering that Noah couldn’t see him. “Yes. Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll keep him with me.”</p><p>            “Thanks, Son. Parish will drop him off in a few minutes.” The Sheriff hung up the phone and Derek found himself staring at it. He was still staring at it when Parish and Stiles came in a few minutes later.</p><p>            “Hey Derek,” Parish called. Derek nodded at him but focused on Stiles. He had changed out of his uniform into jeans and his red hoodie over a t-shirt. He was staring at the ground and being unusually quiet. Derek could smell magic on him, which in itself wasn’t unusual. Stiles was a Spark, but this magic was unfamiliar and clashed with his natural scent. It made Derek frown. Parish elbowed Stiles, forcing the younger man to look up. His whiskey eyes got wide when he saw Derek and he grinned. “Stiles, this is Derek.  He’s a friend of yours and he’s gonna watch you while we’re hunting down whoever did this to you.”</p><p>            “Sounds fun,” Stiles said sarcastically.</p><p>            “He’s been pretty quiet since he woke up, but I’m not sure how long that’ll last,” Parish chuckled. “Take good care of him.” The officer waved and headed out the door. Stiles watched him go, before turning back to Derek awkwardly.</p><p>            “So, we’re friends?” Stiles asked, picking at the sleeve of his hoodie.</p><p>            Derek nodded. “Something like that.” He lifted up a section of the counter. “Come on Stiles. You can sit back here until I get off.” Stiles nodded sliding past Derek. The alpha gestured at the beanbag that was sitting behind the desk. Stiles happily plopped down in the beanbag, grinning up at Derek who took a seat on his stool.</p><p>            “Is this back here for me?” he asked with an odd look in his eyes. Derek shook his head. “So, there’s a beanbag behind the desk for no reason?”</p><p>            “The kids destroyed the others,” Derek grunted. “If they want to use it, now they have to ask.” Which was true. Though Stiles used the beanbag more than any of the kids. When he had a day off, he’d often come and bug Derek, commandeering the beanbag. Derek would deny that being the reason he’d moved it in the first place, but he knew Stiles could see right through that on a normal day.</p><p>            “Sure,” Stiles muttered, rolling his eyes. Maybe he could see through that today too. “I hate to bug you, but you wouldn’t happen to have anything to eat? I haven’t eaten since I woke up and I really don’t know when the last time I ate before that was.”</p><p>            “Breakfast,” Derek muttered, pulling out a pack of Reese’s from under the desk. He tossed them to Stiles who beamed at him.</p><p>            “Dude, these are my favorite.”</p><p>            “Don’t call me dude.”</p><p>            Stiles ignored him, shoving a peanut butter cup into his mouth. “I guess you really are my friend if you’ve got these just laying around.”</p><p>            “Leftover from Halloween,” Derek mumbled. Which was also true. He didn’t need to mention that he’d actually bought them the day after Halloween to keep at the desk because he knew Stiles would bug him at work. Stiles raised an eyebrow, smirking at Derek. He needed to change the subject. “I thought you didn’t remember anything.”</p><p>            “I don’t. Not really.” Stiles shrugged. “I mean, I know things about myself when they come up, but I couldn’t tell you my life story or why I am the way I am. Like, I know Reese’s are my favorite, but I couldn’t tell you why I like them. I know I don’t like the cold, but I have no idea what my name is. Or, my legal name I guess, but I know my parents didn’t name me Stiles. What the hell even is a Stiles?” He frowned a bit like something bugged him about the way he said that but kept going. “I wanted to check when I got into my own clothes after they let me out of the hospital but the deputy that was with me took my wallet back to the Sheriff, er, my dad.” He made a face. “I’ve gotta tell you it was weird to see all these people in uniform and be told they were actually my friends when I didn’t recognize them.” Derek nodded. “It was different with you.”</p><p>            He frowned. “What do you mean?”</p><p>            “Well, you weren’t in uniform and I had time to adjust to not knowing anybody before I met you. Besides, you know my favorite snack and you have a beanbag back here just for me. You clearly know me. It hasn’t really felt that way with anybody else.” Stiles shrugged again. He stretched his hands out behind him and plucked a puzzle cube off the shelf there. He grinned at it.</p><p>            “That’s not why the beanbag is back here,” Derek growled weakly.</p><p>            “Uh-huh. Sure, big guy. And I bet that’s the same reason this is back here too. To keep the kids from destroying it.” He waved the puzzle cube in front of his face.</p><p>            “You left it there.”</p><p>            “If I left it there, then I have clearly spent time here. Enough time that I left distractions for myself.” He began working the puzzle absently. “We are so friends.”</p><p>            “Sure Stiles.” Derek turned his attention back to his computer as Mr. Howser approached the desk to check out. He glanced at Stiles, but ultimately ignored the extra presence. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before, but it had Derek pausing after he finished, wondering how about how often Stiles had to be here for someone like Mr. Howser, who came in maybe once every month, to be used to his presence. He turned to look at Stiles who had abandoned the puzzle cube in favor of a book on the history of explosives that Derek had set aside for him. Every so often, Stiles would make a noise or shift position on the beanbag disrupting the quiet of the library, but instead of it being annoying, Derek found it comforting that even without his memories, Stiles was still Stiles. Derek decided to close the library at five instead of six so that he could get Stiles some food because he hadn’t had anything but Reese’s since breakfast. Assuming he’d eaten breakfast. Stiles had a tendency to skip it even when he made Derek something to eat. Stiles was talking the whole time Derek was locking up. Explaining about the book he’d read and how it felt like he should have known some of the information.</p><p>            “There was one passage that was like super familiar,” Stiles said as Derek pulled the front door closed and locked it. “It was on Molotov cocktails, which would make sense if I was in the Russian mob, but not so much knowing I’m a cop.”</p><p>            “You’ve used Molotov cocktails before,” Derek said. He stopped himself before he could go into details on the use of them since they had mostly been used on Peter and that was impossible to explain without explaining werewolves, which is something Derek hoped to avoid. At least until Stiles remembered them on his own.</p><p>            “When?” Stiles asked with a frown.</p><p>            “In high school.”</p><p>            “Was I really that kid in high school?”</p><p>            “What kid?” Derek sighed.</p><p>            “The kid who blew shit up. I mean, it doesn’t really sound like me, but I don’t know for sure. Why else would I know how to make a self-igniting Molotov cocktail?” Stiles shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as they walked towards Derek’s Camaro. Thankfully, the sight of the car got Stiles off focus. “Dude, is this your car?”</p><p>            “Don’t call me dude,” Derek said nodding.</p><p>            “Awesome.” Stiles beamed. “Dude, how does a librarian have a car like this?” Stiles asked, already getting in the passenger seat.</p><p>            “It was my sister’s.”</p><p>            “Was?”</p><p>            Derek slid into the driver’s seat, unable to meet Stiles’ curious gaze. “She died a few years ago.” He started the car, still not looking at Stiles. The younger man’s scent soured with guilt.</p><p>            “Sorry. I guess you don’t like talking about it.” He shifted in the seat a bit. “So, uh, where are we going?”</p><p>            “My loft, after we get something to eat and pick up some clothes for you. Clothes first,” Derek declared. He started driving to Stiles’ apartment.</p><p>            “Only if you have a key. The Sheriff’s department took my keys with my wallet.” Stiles pouted. “I don’t think they trusted me to stay put if they gave me my stuff back.”</p><p>            “Of course not,” Derek snorted.</p><p>            “I can’t be that bad.”</p><p>            “So, you would have definitely stayed and not gone to try and figure out who did this to you,” Derek deadpanned, raising a critical eyebrow. Stiles opened his mouth to protest but shut it just as quickly. Derek smirked.</p><p>            “Oh, shut up,” Stiles mumbled. Derek pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex that Stiles lived in. It wasn’t in the best neighborhood, but it was what he could afford. Derek had offered a discounted apartment in his building when Stiles decided to move out of the Sheriff’s house, but Stiles had refused. Saying it was better to have the pack spread out in the territory. That had been a few years ago though and Stiles had been talking about moving closer to the Station. He’d even asked if Derek’s offer still stood. Derek pulled out his keys for Stiles’ place and led Stiles inside. He ignored the look Stiles gave him. It wasn’t like the man had room to judge Derek. Stiles had keys to every pack member's place, including Derek’s loft. Not that Stiles knew that right now.</p><p>            “Stay here,” Derek said. He pointed at the couch while he himself kept moving into the bedroom. Stiles didn’t follow him, but Derek could hear the other man digging around the other parts of the apartment. He rolled his eyes. Derek grabbed a bag and shoved a couple changes of clothes into it, not sure how long Stiles might be without his memory. He also tossed in Stiles’ phone charger, even though he hadn’t seen Stiles use the device since he’d been dropped off. He didn’t bother grabbing a toothbrush or deodorant since Stiles had some at Derek’s apartment already. Derek chose not to think about that too much. That’s where they went after fights and for long research nights, so it made sense to have some stuff there. Stiles actually had a change of clothes there for emergencies, but this wasn’t emergent enough in Derek’s opinion. When he reemerged, Stiles was sitting on the couch giving him a funny look. “What?”</p><p>            “Do you eat here a lot?” Stiles asked. Derek frowned at him. “I just mean, there’s a bunch of food in my fridge that wouldn’t make sense if I wasn’t feeding at least one other person on a regular basis. There’s enough to feed a small army and I know that I don’t eat that much.”</p><p>            “Sometimes,” Derek muttered. He wasn’t sure how to explain that Stiles was often cooking for the pack, even though his apartment was too small for pack meetings. Stiles would cook and bring it to whoever’s place was hosting that week. Normally Scott or Derek, since they had the biggest apartments. Besides Peter, but Peter would never host pack nights. Peter wasn’t even really pack. “Come on Stiles.” He threw the bag to Stiles who fumbled trying to catch it. He ultimately had to pick it off the ground after nearly falling over the couch in his attempt. Derek smirked.</p><p>            “Yeah, it’s super funny to play with the resident human,” Stiles snarked. He froze, grimacing at himself. “What the fuck?” Derek raised an eyebrow. “Why would I bother to call myself human? Why wouldn’t that be assumed?” Stiles’ eyes were fixed on a point behind Derek. There was a blank sort of look on his face that he got when he was deep in thought.</p><p>            Derek cleared his throat. “Come on Stiles.” Stiles focused on Derek, snapping out of whatever daze he’d been in. Once they were settled in the car again, Stiles kept looking at Derek like something had changed. Normally, Derek would flash his eyes to get Stiles to stop, but he didn’t want to scare the human when he didn’t remember werewolves. Instead, Derek glared at him. “What?” he growled.</p><p>            Stiles tilted his head a bit as a small smile formed. “Nothing. Just trying to remember stuff.”</p><p>            “And?” Derek sighed. Stiles shrugged, and the alpha rolled his eyes. It was abnormally quiet as he drove to the diner. Derek made Stiles stay in the car while he got them food, not wanting to put Stiles in a vulnerable position. When he got back to the car, he saw Stiles staring at his phone. He looked up when Derek dropped the food on his lap.</p><p>            “Oh my god, that smells so good!” Stiles exclaimed, dropping his phone.</p><p>            “Do not eat in my car,” Derek warned. Stiles babbled excitedly about the food until they arrived at Derek’s loft. He was far less excited by the second flight of stairs.</p><p>            “Why do you live in a building with no elevator?” he whined. Derek smirked at him. They had this conversation at least once a week. “Are you a masochist? Like, seriously, why would you put yourself through this every day? Why would you let a landlord charge you for a place with no elevator?”</p><p>            “I own the building, Stiles,” Derek sighed. “And most of my tenants don’t care.” Most of his tenants were supernatural creatures who needed to burn off extra energy at least once a month. Boyd, Erica, Parish, Malia, and Kira all lived in his building.</p><p>            “You own the building? Dude, how rich are you?” When Derek didn’t answer, Stiles kept going. “Also, are you sure your tenants don’t mind, or do they stay quiet out of fear of the grumpy landlord?” Stiles grinned broadly. Derek rolled his eyes and opened the loft door. “Seriously, I bet you could scare off a green beret. Are you always such a Sourwolf?” Derek couldn’t keep his eyes from flashing at the nickname that had tumbled unknowingly from Stiles’ mouth. Thankfully, he was facing away from Stiles, whose scent shifted to confusion, like he didn’t understand what he’d said. “What the fuck?” he muttered. Derek snatched the bag of food from Stiles’ hand and dropped it on the table.</p><p>            “Eat,” he ordered. He took the bag he’d packed Stiles and carried it to the spare room. It had been Isaac’s, but he’d moved in with Scott after they started dating. For the past two years, Stiles had been the only one using it, whenever he stayed over, which was often. His scent in the room was still fresh from the last time, just three days ago after the last pack night had run late. He dropped the bag on the bed and returned to find that Stiles had managed to find the plates and divided the food correctly. He already had a mouth full of curly fries.</p><p>            Stiles waited until Derek had joined him to speak. “So, are all my friends werewolves or just you?” Stiles asked. Derek choked a bit, fixing his eyes on Stiles. The man shrugged. “I mean, you eat twice as much as me, apparently enjoy walking up three flights of stairs every day and keep smelling me every few minutes. And don’t think I missed the glowing eyes. I mean, either you’re a werewolf or there’s more wrong than just my missing memory.” Derek forced himself to swallow, clearing his airway. He took a deep breath and where Stiles had sounded confident there was an edge of doubt in his scent.</p><p>            “Boyd is one too,” Derek managed. He wasn’t sure Stiles had seen any of their other pack members since he lost his memory.</p><p>            “And you?” Stiles gestured at him with his burger. Derek nodded. “But not me. I’m the token human. Are we a part of a pack?”</p><p>            Derek nodded again. “Five other wolves, a Kanima/wolf hybrid, a banshee, a werecoyote, a kitsune, a hunter, and you.”</p><p>            Stiles’ eyes lit up. “I’m gonna need a full breakdown on all the cool powers you guys have, like, now.”</p><p>            “Not tonight, Stiles,” Derek sighed. “Hopefully, you won’t need it at all because you’ll remember.”</p><p>            “Dude, is that why I don’t have my memories? Did someone steal them? That’s why you guys pulled me out of the hospital. They can’t help me because I lost my memories to magic, not a head wound!” He flopped back in his seat. “That is so awesome. Not that not remembering is fun, cause it so isn’t. But magic and werewolves and Banshees: that is so fucking cool. How the hell did I end up the token human in a badass pack like ours?”</p><p>            “Your friend, Scott, was bitten while you were both in high school.”</p><p>            “Is he still my friend?” Stiles tilted his head, shoving more fries into his mouth.</p><p>            Derek nodded. “He’s pack.” Stiles grinned, curly fries hanging out of his mouth. Derek rolled his eyes. Once Stiles had managed to swallow the truly impressive number of fries, he had another question.</p><p>            “Are we dating?” he asked. Derek’s eyes got wide. “It’s just, you were the first person my dad called at the hospital. You have a key to my apartment. You have a space set up in your workplace for me with my favorite snacks and puzzles and books. You know my favorite foods. You didn’t pack toiletries which means that I have some here. And you get this look whenever you explain something I don’t remember like it hurts you to see me like this. Plus, you haven’t called me a friend this whole time, even when I prompted you to. I mean, it sorta seems like we are, but now you’re looking at me funny so maybe I’m wrong.” Stiles sunk into his seat, face turning bright red. Derek just stared at him, unable to respond. Stiles thought that he was dating Derek? Of course, hearing him explain it made sense. Those are things that couples do. But they weren’t, were they? Derek knew just as much about Erica. But it was different. It had always been different because Stiles wasn’t just pack. He was in Derek’s space all the time. And it never bothered Derek. In fact, he almost relied on the spastic human’s presence. They ate together multiple times a day. They shared everything, even the things that they would never tell the rest of the pack like Stiles’ given name or the truth about Kate and the fire. They had space in each other’s apartments. Derek felt dizzy as he considered the question again. Were they dating? Not explicitly. They didn’t kiss or anything like that. <em>Yet.</em> The second the thought came to him, Derek’s eyes were drawn to Stiles’ lips and he realized. No, they weren’t dating, but Derek desperately wanted them to be. His stomach felt like it was full of butterflies and the tips of his ears burned. But he couldn’t do that to Stiles. Not when he was like this. Not when he couldn’t remember all the reasons Derek didn’t deserve him.</p><p>            Derek schooled his expression. “No, Stiles, we’re not dating.”</p><p>            “Uh, right. Just friends. Got it. Sorry,” Stiles muttered. Embarrassment wafted off him in waves. “I think I’m gonna get some sleep. It’s been a long day. Where do you want me?” He flushed again. “I mean, uh, what, er, where am I sleeping?”</p><p>            “First door. The bathroom’s at the end of the hall,” Derek said. Stiles nodded and scrambled away from him. Derek ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He wanted Stiles to come back. He wanted to explain that once he had his memories, Stiles would understand. Stiles wouldn’t think of Derek that way. He wanted to make Stiles understand that <em>Derek</em> wasn’t the one who didn’t want it. <em>Stiles</em> was. Derek was broken and would never be enough for someone like Stiles who could make anyone smile and fill any space with bright energy. Stiles was incredibly smart and loyal. He had saved Derek’s life more times than the Alpha cared to admit. He was the bravest human Derek had ever met. He deserved so much more than Derek could offer him, and he knew it. Derek stretched his hearing, listening for Stiles’ heartbeat as he paced the room. He didn’t expect to hear a second heartbeat moving steadily around on the roof. He focused on it and expanded his senses. It was a woman who reeked of magic. The same foreign bitter magic that had been all over Stiles. The scent of magic sharpened and suddenly the witch was right in front of Derek, looking like she had clearly not meant to do that. Derek growled, eyes glowing red.</p><p>            “Alpha,” she yelped, bolting for the door. But Derek was faster. He had her pinned against the wall in an instant. The slamming had Stiles running out of his room. She looked between the angry Alpha ‘wolf and the Spark. “Shit,” she muttered.</p><p>            “Fix him,” Derek snarled. When she didn’t react, Derek allowed his claws to slide out pressing into her shoulders where he was gripping her.</p><p>            “All right! All right!” She twitched a hand and the scent of magic sharpened again. Stiles let out a little gasping sound and suddenly the amount of magic in the room doubled. But this was magic that Derek knew. A set of runes glowed on the wall as Stiles activated one of his wards. The witch screamed as it restrained her. Derek stepped back and watched the runes jump from the wall to her wrists, binding her magic. Then Stiles stepped past him and handcuffed her with a grimace.</p><p>            “I told you you’d regret it,” Stiles growled. Derek wasn’t sure what he was referencing, but the witch clearly did because she flinched back with a whimper. Stiles glared at her one last time before pulling out his phone. In a quick motion, he unlocked his phone and called the Sheriff. “Hey dad, can you send somebody to Derek’s? The witch tried to break into his loft. We’re fine and I’ve got my memories back. Shoot me a text when they’re on the way and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Stiles didn’t give the Sheriff time to respond before hanging up the phone. He was actively avoiding looking at Derek, but the ‘wolf could smell the embarrassment wafting off him. They stayed quiet until Stiles’ phone buzzed letting them know that Boyd was on his way up. “Now, you get to answer to the Sheriff. And, for the record, I’ve got wards at the station and jail too. And on all the squad cars and transport vans. You won’t be using your magic until you get out.” Stiles crossed his arms which may have looked more impressive if he wasn’t wearing plaid pajama pants and his ‘stud muffin’ t-shirt. Boyd finally arrived and jerked the cuffed witch after him. </p><p>            “Glad you’re back Stilinski,” Boyd said. He dropped Stiles’ keys and wallet on the table before dragging the witch out of the loft. Now that they were alone again, the air felt charged, and Derek didn’t know how to fix it. Stiles wasn’t looking at him, but he also wasn’t leaving. The silence seemed to stretch on forever.</p><p>            Finally, Stiles let out a strained sigh. “About earlier,” he started, “when I asked…you know. I didn’t mean to make it weird and I’ll stop. We don’t even have to acknowledge it ever again and we can go back to how we were before.” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “I know you don’t feel the same way and I only asked because I didn’t know better. I know you wouldn’t want someone like me. We can just ignore it.”</p><p>            Derek frowned. “Do you want to ignore it?”</p><p>            Stiles finally looked over at Derek, his whiskey eyes ringed with gold from his magic. “Don’t taunt me, Derek.” He wrapped his arms around his chest, closing in on himself. Derek took a deep breath and could smell the hurt on him. Derek met Stiles’ gaze and smirked.</p><p>            “I’m not,” he said. Stiles' eyes got wide, and his mouth dropped open, but before he could say anything Derek was slotting their mouths together. Stiles made a startled noise as he melted into the kiss. His hands found their way to Derek’s hair, tugging a bit as the kiss deepened. Derek let out a pleased growl. When they finally broke apart, they were both gasping. Derek pressed his face into Stiles’ neck, breathing deeply and enjoying the heady scent rolling off the Spark.</p><p>            “If I knew all it took was a memory spell to get you to kiss me, I would have done one years ago,” Stiles chuckled.</p><p>            Derek snorted. “Shut up Stiles.”</p><p>            “Never, Sourwolf.” Stiles ran blunt fingernails down Derek’s back sending goosebumps racing across the ‘wolves’ skin. “And just so you know. This isn’t like I just realized this. You’re it for me, Der. Have been for a while. Just couldn’t work up the nerve to tell you.”</p><p>            Derek pulled back to look into Stiles’ eyes. “You’re it for me too.” Stiles beamed at him.</p><p> </p><p>Derek’s day had started like it always had, but it had ended as he had never known to hope for.</p>
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